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rwbyremnants · 1 year

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WARNING: This chapter is… less than fun. Expect some abuse and violence, graphic torture, and a very near miss with sexual assault (in a corrective rape context). Please don’t read if any of that might trigger you.

WHEW. This was a big, heavy plot point and a lot of the story had been building to this. It was complete happenstance that it happened to fall on Chapter 50, but that kind of thing makes me happy - like the last piece of a puzzle falling into place, or filling your tank with gas and letting go of the handle when it falls on an even dollar amount. Mwah, chef's kiss.

Believe it or not, there's still quite a bit more story left, but it's now the countdown to the end. Hope the coming chapters wrap everything up nicely for everyone who's stuck with it this far!

=Chapter 50

Weiss felt stupid for expecting her father to take her back to their home. Obviously, that would have been too simple. When they started getting closer to their destination, and were sure Yang wasn’t following, they pulled over and - easily ignoring her feeble attempts to fight them off - cuffed her hands behind her back, and tied a blindfold around her eyes. There would be no way of knowing where she would end up.

When the blindfold came off, she was in a dusty room in an attic. That was all she could tell; everything else there was covered with sheets. The only window was smoked enough that nobody could have seen in, even if they were climbing on the outside of the building. She had been forced into a chair and tied to it before they bothered to let her see where she was.

“Father?” she asked, trying to look around and see him. Instead, all she saw were the grim faces of corrupt policemen. “Where is my father?!” No one answered her. She tried demanding a few more times, but they just paced around and tried to ignore her shrill voice. Eventually she gave up and conserved her strength. She had a lot on her mind now.

Was Yang alright? Had she told their parents, or Salem yet? Maybe it would be best if she didn’t; no one else needed to get hurt trying to save her from her own parent. They could all forget about her and go back to their normal lives…

But Yang and Blake couldn’t. They would miss her in a different way. It felt conceited to think it, but wasn’t it also inconsiderate to pretend they didn’t care when she knew that was such a cruel lie?

Jacques did return some time later. When she looked up from the floor, surfacing from her endlessly circling thoughts, he was standing before her in his usual crisp white suit, with a bowl in one hand - a straw stuck into it - and a glass of water in the other. After a moment of blinking dispassionately downward, he held the bowl an inch forward.

“Soup?”

“What?”

“You might be hungry by now,” he went on without moving a muscle otherwise. “A little French onion soup is the easiest sustenance I can offer without releasing you.”

Her face transformed into the scowl she had been holding back until then. Somehow. “Or you could release me so I can eat for myself.”

“Ah, ah, ah! Can't trust you to stay put if we do that, now can we?” He pushed the straw up against her lips but they remained stubbornly closed. “Fine. But you'll get no dessert if you don't finish dinner, young lady.”

“Are you… out of your tree? Do you actually believe kidnapping me counts as quality father-daughter bonding time?”

His soulless eyes rolled away her sentiment. “Don't be so melodramatic. How can it possibly be kidnapping when you're my own kid? Really, the absurd things your mind comes up with…”

She gaped at him for a few minutes, amazed. Before that moment, she honestly couldn't have been sure if he really believed these crazy things he was saying or not. Excuses he made up to make himself feel better about his actions. And she still wasn't sure… but against all reason, she was starting to think he might really believe his own lies.

“You… really are insane.”

“Excuse me?” he bristled, pulling the bowl back as he scowled down at her. “How dare you talk to your father in such an insolent manner!”

“You shot at us!” she screamed up at his dispassionate face, unable to be diplomatic, to hold it back anymore. “At the woman I love! And you think, what, a little soup is going to make me hate you any less? Have you been huffing paint fumes?!”

His expression went flatter and more sinister. “You do not understand the difference between love and lust, Weiss. And you don't even fully understand the latter at all. What you and that… cretin of a girl have been doing is sin, and has nothing to do with love.”

“You have no idea what love is! It's not this! Not… beating Mommy and locking me in an attic! What happened to you? What made you this way, this crazy? This sick?!”

“Very well.” He set the bowl and the glass of water on a nearby table, then turned back to her with his hands in the small of his back, posture erect. “I can see that you are still rattled from your ordeal, and unable to listen to reason. We shall attempt this later. For now, I have some pressing matters to attend.”

“Father, you can't be s-”

“These men are here to protect you. They have been instructed to offer you food and drink at any time… provided you say ‘please’. Until then, ta ta.”

The incensed paper shaker struggled against her bonds as her father walked swiftly from the room. No matter how many times she cried out for him to let her go, screamed for help, none of her guards reacted with so much as a blink of an eye. And apparently, no one else outside overheard. She was truly alone.

------------------------

Hours passed. The ropes chafed her wrists and ankles; she wondered where her jacket had gone. Her father probably had it burned at the first opportunity. That would be a real shame, but she knew the Dragons would not hold losing it against her.

The next time he came for a visit, he was holding a malted in one hand, straw at the ready for her. All she had to do was grovel, accept his terms, and she could have as much as she wanted. She said “please”, batting her eyelashes, and was rewarded with a long drink of the chocolaty, frothy beverage.

Which she promptly spat all over his Italian leather loafers.

“Stupid little-” Instead of punctuating that sentence with an insult, he backhanded her across the face. She yelped, felt the pain explode in her head, but said nothing else.

“Very well, daughter. I have been kind, I have been gracious. And you turn up your nose at these methods. No more. No more sparing the rod and spoiling the child. You will regret eschewing my kindness.”

But it would appear that his twisted brand of discipline would not be implemented right away. He left, and it would be many more hours before she saw him again. Weiss found it impossible to get comfortable, and recoiled at the thought of asking her guards - with a ‘pretty please,’ no less - for food. How revolting.

She must have lost consciousness, because the next thing she knew a cup full of water was being tossed into her face. Sputtering and trying to blink it away, she roused to see her father crouching over her. This time, his jacket was off and his shirt sleeves were rolled up to his elbows.

“Wakey, wakey.”

Her eyes narrowed once she had registered what was going on. What a jerk. She really wanted to kick him, but her ankles being tied made that impossible. He seemed to be expecting her to respond, but all he got for his wait was more glaring.

“Really, still behaving like an infant?” he sighed wearily as he moved over to a wooden box that rested on the table, lifting the lid clear and setting it aside. “I really hoped we wouldn’t have to devolve to the state of primates, Weiss. But it seems you have given me no other choice.”

When he withdrew the feather, she really thought he was kidding. He wasn’t. Her mouth only squirmed a bit when he flitted it back and forth under her chin. Unfortunately, he wasn’t quite through, and started in on her feet next - when had she lost her socks and shoes? They were on before she fell asleep, she was certain of it. He must have been planning this torture from the beginning.

After the first minute, it started to work. Her laughter had never sounded so strained and unhinged in her entire life, devoid of any vestigial enjoyment - just the release of an involuntary reaction. She hated the loss of control, the sensations that ought to have been fun only bringing her agony.

“Alright,” he said evenly, smiling slightly as she gasped for air now that he had stopped for the moment. “Now… let’s see how cooperative you’re feeling.” He gestured to the soup, now long cold but still offering sustenance. “All you have to do… is say ‘please, Daddy’. That’s all. And then you may eat. It’s not asking so much, is it?”

Her lips quivered very briefly. Then she opened them, and he leaned forward.

“Please, Daddy…”

“Yes?”

“Please… go to hell.” Another smack across the face. “AH!”

“My little girl isn’t doing so well,” he said in a falsely-sweet voice, the rumble of pure anger bleeding through despite his best attempts to restrain it. “We’ll definitely have to wash that nasty mouth of yours out with soap. Luckily, I already have that prepared.”

And he did. Seconds later, Weiss was slinging her head from side to side, trying to avoid taking a mouthful of a bar of soap that she certainly had no desire to sample. Even once he caught her chin, she kept her jaw clenched tightly closed, growling deep in her throat.

“Hold her nose!” he snapped to a guard, who did, also holding the top of her head. Her father’s fingertips ground into the sides of her jaw behind her teeth, slowly making it more and more uncomfortable for her to keep her mouth shut that way; the nose-holding forced her lips open for breath, so she already had a little of the taste bleeding through as he rubbed it back and forth across her teeth.

It didn’t take much longer after that for him to get the bar of soap into her mouth. It was offensive and sharp and awful, and she found herself despising Jacques Schnee more than she ever thought possible of any human being in the universe. And she owed half of her genes to him. To this scum. Tears ran down to mix with the soap in her mouth, and it all tasted of bitterness.

“Why don’t you just hold that there for a while?” he growled at her with a sinister smile as he shoved the soap even deeper. There was no way to completely keep it off her tongue, and she felt herself retch but tried not to let it get bad enough that she would vomit. “We’ll come back later and see if you’re in a more… cooperative mood.”

Just when she thought it could get no worse, he tied the blindfold from before around her mouth instead of her eyes - holding the soap inside. Her sobbing followed him out of the room.

------------------------

This time, she hadn’t the faintest idea how long she waited for her father to drift back in. During his absence, she had managed to use her saliva to slowly melt the bar of soap away, drooling it out of the corner of her mouth and down past her legs onto the floor. At least it helped to relax her jaw and eventually, she could spit enough times to clear her mouth of the flavour entirely once the bar had vanished.

Through it all, her thoughts kept drifting back to Yang. What was she doing right now? Was she alright? Maybe she and Blake could comfort each other; even if they weren’t fated to be a couple, they did at least care for each other in their different ways. But her mother… Willow really did lose her only remaining family. Kali and Raven could only do so much to ease that loss. And Weiss would have felt the same way if their places were switched.

“Mommy,” she whimpered into the blindfold. “Yang… Blake…” No one answered.

This time, she awoke to the sound of the door opening; she was already awake by the time his footsteps approached. Each one sounded like a final blow. Her toes scrabbled at the hardwood floor, trying in vain for some kind of purchase to escape. There was never any point but she somehow felt better for trying.

“There’s my little girl,” Jacques hummed with a smile as he took off his showy fedora and laid it aside, then began to shuck his jacket. “I’m sure you’ve had a while to think about what you’ve done. Let’s get started, shall we?”

Once he took off the blindfold-turned-gag, Weiss was just barely able to rasp, “Water.”

“Oh, no no no, I don’t think so. Let’s play a little game.” He took hold of the arms of her chair, leaning a bit closer as he smiled - not that it reached his eyes. “Why don’t you tell me… where you and your little friends have been holed up, hm?”

No response. He leaned closer, and she could smell whiskey on his breath; he had at least one stiff belt before coming up there.

“Where are they, Weiss? We need to get your mother back. I am only trying to keep our little family together. You would really rather protect those vile delinquents than help bring my wife back into our fold?”

“Water.”

“Back to that again. Very well. No food, but I suppose I can give you a bit of water - as long as you don’t spit it on my shoes.” Cradling the back of her head, he tipped the water glass up to pour into her mouth. And he didn’t bother to be terribly delicate; the water ran down all over her neck and the front of her blouse, and she shivered from how uncomfortable it was. But some did make it down her throat.

“Guh!” she gasped once he took the empty cup away.

“There. Satisfied? Now we can get somewh-”

They couldn’t get anywhere right away. First, they would have to deal with Weiss vomiting all over him. To be fair, she actually leaned a bit to the side, trying not to hit him with the splash so it wouldn’t bounce off and hit herself.

“DAMN IT!” he growled, swiping at his trousers and shirt. “Weiss! What the devil-?!”

Her lip quivered as she managed to get out, “I… the s-soap…”

“Ah… yes, of course.” Shaking his head, he gestured to one of the guards to run and fetch a wet washcloth of some sort, and the man took off immediately. “Suppose that combined with the dehydration… you were drinking it so quickly.”

“Th-that’s what happens when… you feed your daughter… cleaning p-products, you… monster!”

He rolled his eyes as if she were being persnickety about something inconsequential. “Well, I wouldn’t have if you weren’t such a stubborn, ungrateful daughter. Do you even realise the depths of the irritation you have caused me? Run me into jail, forced me to contact degenerates I would rather not associate myself with? It boggles the mind. And all of this for what? Some flight of fancy? And one that is against nature’s laws, at that!”

Working up a gob of spit, she flung it to the side at the floor. It would have gone into his face, but she knew she had already disrespected him directly enough for one day and didn’t want to earn herself further pain. Besides, she had something significant to say.

“I love Yang. That’s all there is, Father.”

“You do not. You cannot! And I’ve heard enough of these lies you tell yourself to justify-”

“I LOVE HER! You, you… controlling, obsessive old man!” When he opened his mouth to speak again, she found enough energy to keep going before he got the chance. “She’s the light of my life, the entire reason I wake up in the morning! I want to spend the rest of my life with her, and I don’t care if we’re both women - or if you like it or not! You hating her is only going to make me hate you; it’s never going to change what’s in my heart! So you can keep shoving soap in my face, keep tying me to chairs, burning down buildings, having me STABBED - whatever you want! But all you’re doing is losing me, and losing your wife, because she is on my side! And I’ll never tell you where she is! EVER!”

He cut off her tirade with another slap across the face. This time, it split her lip, but she didn’t care; she turned back to glare up at him defiantly, vibrating all over. Pure anger.

“Fine,” he rumbled in a similar tone. Though his voice was a little more distant than it ought to be. “You will never see reason. That much is clear now. I… really don’t have a choice, do I? You saw me try, you saw me be reasonable, then try discipline, try everything… but nothing gets through that thick skull of yours.”

As Weiss looked on, having no idea what he was ranting about, he snapped his fingers, motioning one of the guards over. In his current clothes, she couldn’t tell if he was one of the dirty cops or just some private security man her father had hired. He moved into position at her father’s side, arms crossed over his chest.

“And who’s this? He’s going to rough me up while you watch? Is that what’s going to make you happy, you, you… sick tyrant?!”

“In a manner of speaking. But I will not be watching.” He turned to the man and said in a sharp voice, “You will not proceed until it is confirmed I am no longer in the building. Understand?” The flunky nodded. “Good. And don’t forget that there will be eyes on you; do it right or there will be consequences.” He leaned in, and the other man’s head drew back slightly in very mild alarm. “Dire. Consequences.”

He visibly gulped. “Yes, sir.”

Jacques turned back to Weiss and smiled at her tightly. “There have been a lot of unfortunate things happening lately, haven’t there? Things that have led you astray. It pains me that I couldn’t see them in time to prevent that, but… mark my words, it will be corrected. It’s not too late. Then once you are better, once we can get past this hurdle, we will do the same for your mother, and… and all will be well again. Yes… yes, we’ll be a family.”

Not that she really understood what was going on, but Weiss said, “Father? What are you talking about? We are no longer family. I told you, if you can hurt me like this-”

“Shhhh, child,” he soothed her, pushing a fingertip into her lips. She was too stunned to try biting it. “Just remember that… Daddy is doing everything he can for his little girl. Goodnight, child.”

As he retreated, she called out “Father!” a few more times. It yielded no response - as if he considered the matter discussed and now closed. So Weiss resigned herself to hanging there, wrists and ankles bound as she waited for the next random torture session.

Until she noticed the guard was still towering over her. Annoyed, she snapped, “May I help you?” No answer. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Waiting.”

They both remained in that deadlock for about five or ten more minutes; Weiss couldn’t be sure without a watch or a clock to check. Then the door eased open and she heard another voice.

“The boss is out the back door. Hurry it up.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he sighed, moving over to start in on Weiss. At first, he assumed she was going to be struck, but instead he was undoing the bonds holding her to the chair.

“Wh-what are you doing now? Am I being let go?”

“Not really. Here, hold still…” He whipped the rope off and let it fall to the ground. “Get up.”

She resisted. He didn’t care; he lifted her up and moved her to the table, knocking off the few objects littered there, then pushed her face-down onto it. Only at that point did she begin to realise what might be about to happen, and her blood ran cold.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?! HELP! Daddy’s going to be furious with you!”

“‘Daddy’ told me to do this,” he grunted as he picked up the soap-caked blindfold and looped it around her eyes, pulling it taut. “Get me another of these? Anything that’ll work. Can’t stand a chatty broad.”

As someone else moved in the room, she whipped her head from side to side, desperate. “Y-you can’t do this. You can’t, I’m n-not- I’ve never- it’s not going to be any good! I don’t want to- you don’t want to! Please? C-can’t we talk about this?!”

“I don’t want to, you’re right,” he snarled as he yanked her panties down from beneath her poodle skirt until they were around her knees. “This ain’t the kinda guy I am or ever wanted to be. But I’ll be a dead man if I don’t do what Mr. Schnee wants. So either I get to help him ‘fix’ a cute dame like you who wants to go around with other dames, or I wind up dead? Sorry, honey. Not much of a choice for me.”

“No…” The soap roiled in her stomach freshly, and she clasped at nothing where her hands were trapped in the small of her back, legs trying to find purchase where they dangled off the table. “NO! Stop! You do this and you are a dead man!”

There was a harsh chuckle as he began to slip another loop of fabric over the top of her head, moving it past her nose toward her mouth. “Oh yeah? As if a little paper-shaker like you could ever lay a finger on-”

He cut off and at first, Weiss expected it was because he was about to do something unspeakable. But then she began to hear the commotion. It was coming from the doorway; it cut off after a second when it shut, but she had heard it as well as anyone.

“What is it?” muttered someone further away. There was a response but she couldn’t quite catch it. “Damn. Keep her on ice, we’ll go down and check it out.”

Then the room was quiet for a moment. The loop of cloth was still over her nose, so she was able to demand, “What’s the matter? Can’t do it for a girl if there’s something else more interesting going on downstairs? Some kinda fella you are!”

“Shut up,” he snapped - and she heard the sound of a gun cocking. “Just stay there. We’ll get back to business as soon as w-”

The door crashed open. There were four shots. Weiss’s heart stopped, she kept bracing for pain to lance through her body… and it never came. Everything was confusion and scuffling. She felt hands on her body and started to thrash around, hoping desperately - against all realism - for Yang to be there, to be sweeping her away from that scene. Anything but being deflowered by some disgusting-

“Wow, you’re really into the rough stuff, huh?”

That was a woman’s voice. Bless all that was holy, it was a woman. The hands were poking her cheekily, but they were also tugging at her ropes.

“Wh-who’s there? What are you doing now?!”

“Uh, trying to save you? Unless you wanna stay here and squirm like a wiggle-worm.”

Now she was really lost. But once her wrists were free, she reached up to take off the two blindfolds - and as she did, she felt a pair of hands pulling up her panties. “AH! Hey!”

“Sorry,” the voice chuckled as she turned around - and saw that it belonged to Neon, that pigtailed thug from out of town. Her grin was playful, even though her eyes were fierce and hard. Some weird kind of Asian weapon was hanging over her shoulder; two sticks attached by a chain. “Thought you might not wanna run outta here with those around your ankles. Kind of a trip hazard, right?”

Gulping as she tried to get her brain working again, Weiss took a look around the room. The two guards that had been inside - including the one that was supposed to “fix” her - were both on the floor, bloody and lifeless. But there was no gun in Neon’s hands. Her eyes panning up finally fixated on-

“Oh, Vernal! What are- both of you are- what’s going on?!”

“We’re busting you out, Schnee,” Vernal sighed, blowing the smoke from the barrel of her pistol. A lot more professional than Neon, she had started skirting the perimeter of the room, trying to make sure there were no more guards hiding anywhere.

Once Neon had the rest of her ropes off, Weiss hopped up. “Does anyone see my shoes?” Vernal looped back and looked around, then nodded back to one corner that Weiss hadn’t been able to see where a large cardboard box sat. Weiss wobbled a little before she walked over toward them… and nearly collapsed.

“Hey, hey,” Neon said, her carefree attitude slipping a bit as she moved to support her. “What’s the matter with you?”

“I… haven’t had anything to eat in…” Her eyebrows narrowed. “I don’t know what day it is.”

“Thursday night,” Vernal sighed as she retrieved the shoes, socks, and jewellery - Weiss hadn’t even realised it was missing with everything going on - and thank goodness, her Dragons jacket, which she pulled on first and foremost. But the knowledge made her heart sink; she had lost an entire day.

It felt like it.

“Hurry up,” Neon complained as Weiss put her socks on with shaky hands. When she dropped the second one, she rolled her eyes and snapped, “You are such a pain - here.”

As she sat in her trusty chair that had been her prison, Neon knelt down and began to slide her socks on. It reminded her of Yang giving her a second slipper; tender touch, if a little quicker and less gentle. They were short on time. When she glanced up and noticed Weiss watching her, she asked, “What?”

“Nothing.”

“You like when girls get on their knees for you?” she teased just a little as she slid the first shoe on. Since Weiss didn’t reply with anything other than a gulp, she shrugged and put the other one on her. “Fine. But you’re really no fun.”

Once standing, Weiss turned to Vernal and said, “Do you have a spare piece?”

“No. Why?”

“Let me borrow that one. Just for a minute.”

Vernal complied. Weiss strode over to the guard lying next to the table and rolled him over with a well-placed kick, glaring down at the body for a moment. Apparently, the buzz-cut Dragon was a crack shot; the wound in his chest was neat and had meant his death was swift. She probably had blood-spray on herself and hadn’t even noticed. But Weiss wasn’t aiming there.

“This little paper-shaker can do better than laying a finger on you.”

The other two recoilied when she fired, and Neon shouted “WHOA!”, though she could barely hear it over the ringing in her ears from the near-deafening report. More blood exploded from the body’s crotch, and Weiss felt her arm start to shake as she raised the gun away and off to one side. Vernal took it with ginger fingers, then was saying something that she couldn’t quite make out, herding her away from the body and out the door.

Downstairs was chaos. The richness of the rooms told her this was definitely the prestigious Mistral Club; it had been one of the few half-decent guesses she had, though the state of the attic didn’t really make her think of an exclusive gentlemen's lodge. As they passed through each room, Weiss glimpsed a few other dead men, some merely tied up, and plenty of scantily-clad women clutching sheets to their chests.

Some gentlemen.

“Hurry it up,” snapped a man at the end of the hall - one with blue hair. She knew him! Neptune, the boy she had saved! Had they really contacted a rival gang to help them with this operation? It was a little surprising… and flattering. Even though she meant a lot to Yang, and a few of the others, Salem mostly just thought she was an annoyance. Right?

“H-hi,” she whispered to him as they passed. He grinned at her. “What’s news?”

“Repaying a debt,” he told her evenly, a fierce smile in place. “Go on, chickadee. People are waiting for you.”

Downstairs was still chaotic, and she winced when she saw the bodies of one or two Huntsmen, and a Dragon she distantly recognised lying dead in the hallways. But the Mistral members had been caught completely off their guard and that was the most fight they put up. Neon and Vernal stuck by Weiss’s side until they were outside the building, as if they were her personal honour guard.

It was so surreal… seeing the recently-dead. Had the rest of the Dragons all been through this before? Vernal and Neon seemed so unfazed. Either way, she hoped she wouldn’t have to again anytime soon.

Outside, she saw Sienna Khan in charge of the whole operation, a group of rough, hearty men checking in with her now that the worst of it was over. When she saw Weiss approaching, her dark features clarified into a look of relief.

“So you were here. Thank goodness - we were worried we’d have to keep searching the other locations.”

Swallowing to coat her throat, she leaned heavily on Neon, who seemed fine with keeping by her side as Vernal moved off to check in with the others. “Where… I mean, how did you know?”

“We didn’t.” Sienna took a long drag on her cigarette and dropped it to the pavement, stomping it out. “But after Yang reported you being taken, we started watching your father’s offices more closely. Plus this place, and the house. He was spending far more time here than usual, so we made an… educated guess.”

“I see.” Her jaw clenched. “Well, I think I’m ready to take him down now. Where did he run to? Back home?”

At that, they all went silent. She saw wariness in their eyes. After a minute or two, another figure emerged from the shadows - carrying a long-barrelled rifle with a telescoping sight mounted on top.

“He won’t be running anymore,” May whispered, still shy and quiet… but with a thread of steel running through her meek voice. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“What?”

The group of them formed an ungainly parade away from the door of the formerly-illustrious Mistral Club to the adjoining parking lot, where a few people were gathered around a body on the ground. The instant she knew who she was about to see, Weiss wanted to run away, to avoid having to see this…

But she had to. If she never saw the body, she would always worry that he was out there somewhere, biding his time. Waiting to find her and her mother again, to force them to be a family they would never be due to his insanity.

“Father,” she rasped as she gaped down at the body, beginning to shake. Neon worked harder to hold her upright.

“Don’t do this to yourself,” Vernal whispered harshly. “He’s not worth it.”

However, Weiss held up a hand to forestall her. She took a step away from Neon, standing on her own two feet in front of his prone form, gazing into his lifeless open eyes. The tiny puncture in his forehead. Watching for him to breathe again - daring him to. Nothing happened, of course, but she almost felt like it would…

“Goodbye, Father,” she whispered before spitting on him one final time. “Thank you for my life. And for nothing else.”

Then she turned on her heel and let them get on with disposing of the body, however they planned on doing that. It was none of her concern anymore.

#princess and the dragons #1950s au #rwby fanfiction #rwbyremnants #spoilers in the tags #attempted assault tw #attempted rape tw #death tw

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hybridafterdark · 9 months

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Anonymous asked:

*grabs Volt by the wrist* What if I don't feel like paying?

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Every so often... Every so often, Volt had to remind these Masked Mobians what happens when they push their luck. Knowing what they had planned to do, the hybrid let his back be pressed against the counter. It put him at a slightly odd angle, but before they could grab his other wrist, he had already moved it and struck.

Swift fingers grasped the growing bulge of their crotch firmly and immediately sent a small electrical current down his arm. Enough of a charge to sent them sprawling backward, and take out the light in the ceiling above where he usually sat.

Now he could stand straight and crossed his arms, never taking his glowing eyes off the other. "Then you can get the fuck out."

#add a little spice: answered ask #if the rings are good: ic #anonymous #forceful actions tw #attempted assault tw #electrocution tw

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grazziella · 1 year

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again i apologize for spamming the dash, but i can’t begin to imagine how betrayed grazie feels after the jets attempted to do what they had attempted to anita. part of the reason grazie surrounds herself with these boys is for her own protection. she knows that if she doesn’t surround herself with people things could end very badly for her. but then the jets turn around and they do that to an innocent woman who has nothing to do with the current conflict? it makes her sick. they ignore her when she’s pounding at the door and screaming, she just lost riff. that night is the worst of her life.

#i can't bring myself to rewatch that scene but skipping over it i realized a few parallels between that one and the masked ball #from s.weeney t.odd (because that's how my brain works) and OUCH #i could say more on this topic but i can't bring myself to now #❈ — she dug herself out of the dirt for a reason / * headcanon.#assault tw #attempted assault tw #ask to tag /

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forbidden-sunlight · 5 months

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yandere!holy knight with saintess!reader scenario [part two]

Warnings: obsessive behavior, profane language, religious themes, implied manipulation, attempted sexual assault, attempted drugging.

There may be possible triggers in this story.

If you do not feel comfortable venturing any further, please hit the 'back' button on your mobile device or computer and read something much more pleasant than a possible series of unfortunate events.

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MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Part One

Part Three

Hey guys, welcome to part two of the yandere!Holy Knight scenario! As a final reminder, the content is going to get much darker so if you do not feel comfortable continuing, please exit now. Bullying is not tolerated on here, so if there is I will take this fic down.

For those who are curious about who is the pretty lady featured in this chapter, this is the one whom the Head Priest claims to be the real saintess, the one whom God truly loves, Reverent Sister Esther. Special thanks to @deathmetalunicorn1 for helping me find this pic and writing out the difficult bits in this fic.

So, with that being said, sit back, relax, and let us return to the Holy Temple of Aesir.

Yandere!Holy Knight rose from his cot on the third morning since he had seen you, exhaustion seeping into his bones even when he should have felt refreshed and ready for the afternoon patrol. Instead, he felt his skin prickle, his calloused hands started to become wet with sweat. His heart was hammering in his rib cage. Will he be able to see you today? He thought. Will he see Reverent Sister Esther? Aesir, please let it not be so!

He could only assume that you were making yourself scarce around the Holy Temple because you were still trying to find any information on the Affection Level while the rest of the congregation began the preparation for the Festival of Stars. It was supposed to be an auspicious time. To reflect and be kind to others as the long, winter dark nights crept across the land.

Yet Reverend Sister Esther did not share those sentiments. With Aesir as his witness, Yandere!Holy Knight can testify under oath that the newest member of the congregation does not possess empathy. Why? Because…of what he saw behind those closed doors leading towards the sanctuary. He didn't mean to see it, he shouldn’t have. Yandere!Holy Knight had only dared to go there before the morning prayers began because he was concerned about the bell-ringer. In its five-hundred year history, there has not been a single morning when someone did not hear the bells of the Holy Temple announce the dawn of a new day and awaken the Brothers and Sisters from their slumber.

He pushed the doors open just a breadth and saw everyone, even the bell-ringer, sitting in the pews in awed silence at the beautiful blue-haired woman in a modest white dress standing behind the pulpit. Reverend Sister Esther smiled softly.

“There is no need to exhaust yourselves by kind to everyone. The world is a dark, cruel place.” She said, spreading her arms outwards.. “There are people we should not speak to, and those we should not lend our ears to. We must turn them away, and only listen to Aesir and what he desires from us. We are his precious children. They are the dregs of society. The common, vulgar, weak, and licentious. They do not deserve Aesir’s salvation! It is through Him, Through I, His Beloved, that we will find our Paradise!” The pews erupted into applause, some of the Brothers standing up as they declared that her words to be sacrament instead of heresy. The High Priest was in wholehearted agreement, smiling widely with flushed cheeks.

Yandere!Holy Knight’s stomach churned in awed disgust before he quietly closed the door, leaning against it to steady his wobbling knees. This is why the number of visitors, of people who have come here in search of guidance and love? Because these fools are being deceived by a devil with a honeyed tongue? He fingered the silver chain around his check, fiddling with the tiny peridot. Sister Harrowhark. He thought about you, concealed behind staggering towers of tomes, dark circles under those jeweled eyes and ignoring the growling of your stomach as you continued to search in the archives. He swallowed thickly at the image in his mind, feeling the tips of his ears burning.

Forgive me, Aesir. These feelings I have harbored for Sister Harrowhark are threatening to sear my flesh and bone. Protect me, Aesir, from Reverend Sister Esther and her wickedness. Guide me, Aesir, what can I do? What must I do? He prayed to his God. He recited the penance of Lust and Sloth, then two verses from the Book of Salvation and then pulled himself away, hoping that the morning sparring sessions and afternoon patrol would be more than enough to keep him busy until he could sneak into the kitchens when the cook was on her break. You might have a responsibility to protect the congregation as Aesir’s Eyes, but you will not do it by exhausting yourself like this, especially if you haven’t eaten a single piece of bread. Yandere!Holy Knight will be absolutely furious if he had to find out the hard way, which is seeing you passed out at a desk, using your arms as a makeshift pillow with [Hair Color] strands all over the place.

And he did. And he had every right to be angry at you. But he willed his boiling anger to a low simmer, focusing his efforts on cajoling you to rise from the chair, carefully placing a hand on around your shoulders as he led out into the hall, to your quarters. He had gotten only as far as to have you eat some sliced meat, bread, and a bit of cheese. You promised that you would take a bath as soon as he left.

Yandere! Holy Knight could only believe your words, though he had a few of his own to say to you.

“Lady Harrowhark, please…you cannot keep doing this to yourself! If you have seen what I have seen happening to the Holy Temple, to our home, then you must know that we must be at our full strength to combat this wickedness!”

You didn’t even try arguing back. You were just as upset as he was, and had seen what he had seen through secret passages located throughout the temple. You both knew who the culprit was, but without solid evidence, all claims would be dismissed as accusations created from jealousy and hate. Seeing the downtrodden frown, how you calmly dismissed him and turned away to look out the stained-glass window….the memory fractured Yandere! Holy Knight’s heart even more.

After his early afternoon patrol, Yandere! Holy Knight went to the training grounds. He swung, parried, and lunged at an invisible enemy until the wooden sword splintered at the handle, sharp pieces slicing through the palm of his hand. He inhaled deeply, feeling the pain throbbing followed the warm wetness of his blood trickling down his fingers. He carefully covered it with his other hand. He needed to get it treated.

He cut through the training grounds, entering the cloister leading to the hospital wing when he heard a silvery voice call out to him. He glanced over his shoulder and saw Reverend Sister Esther running towards him, face flushed pink and the hem of her skirts lifted just enough to expose her ankles. An expression might have been seen as the look of someone who is in love….but Yandere!Holy Knight felt nothing except disgust and wariness. He straightened his spin and just kept moving, quickening his pace.

Or he would have liked to. He couldn’t act too out of the ordinary. After all, he and Lady Harrowhark are the only ones immune to the Affection Level spell casted by Reverend Sister Esther. Inhaling a deep breath through his nostrils, he lowered his head to the heathen.

“Reverend Sister, how may I help you?” He asked cooly.

“You’re hurt!” She gasped. Her blue eyes were wide with false concern, the faintest hint of cunning wickedness glimmering in the sunlight as she ever so slowly cradled his injured hand in both of her hands, fingers languidly grazing the outside of his palm. Yandere!Holy Knight felt his skin prickle. Aesir, grant me strength! He exclaimed in his mind. He was about to pull away when he felt something enter the open cut with a soft shick. He almost missed it. He looked at her, now frightened.

“What did you -” His words were soon cut off when she covered his wound with a handkerchief that suddenly appeared out of nowhere. “At least bind it to slow the blood flow!” Esther smiled brightly. He nodded, quickly pulling his hand away. That was when he felt it. Nausea. Then something crawling under his skin, like the roots of a tree, slithering and making his body hot and please Aesir help help help HELP!

Yandere!Holy Knight stumbled backwards, landing on his side and the warm fog in his mind worsened. He couldn’t think….he…needed….he needed what? What? WHAT?! When he glanced up at Reverend Sister Esther, his hammering heart thudded harder against his ribcage. The look on her face was foul, evil.

Like a cat who had finally caught a canary in its claws.

Terrified out of his mind, he pulled himself up from the stone floor and ran. He ran until the exertion and whatever poison that she had placed in his body had taken its toll. He vaguely remembered entering a room, but not locking it. Another wave of pain surged through his body, and more blood…it went south. Yandere!Holy Knight felt ashamed, disgusted. And he needed you. He needed you so much right now.

Somehow, Reverend Sister Esther found him. And her grin had become impossibly wider at seeing like this. She was giggling. Kneeling in front of him, her dainty hand reached out and stroked his reddening cheek, causing the already overwhelming heat in his body to bloom again and make his…problem get worse.

“Now, let’s have a little fun, shall we~? My dear, sweet little bias~.” Esther purred, dragging her hand down his face, his neck, and then to his chest before she gave a gentle push. When he collided with the floor, she raised her skirts and straddled his hips. Yandere! Holy Knight tried to push her away, but he felt so damned weak. What in Aesir’s name had she done to him?!

“What is the meaning of this?” A cold, calm voice broke through the stifling silence. Esther stiffened, her beautiful face contouring into disbelief and anger, the irises of her eyes becoming slitted like a cat’s before she looked over her shoulder. He did too, and saw a tired-looking woman in mother-of-pearl robes. You.

“You!”

“I asked you a question. Answer me.”

“I don’t answer to an extra, screw off!”

The uncomfortable heat was soon replaced with relief, followed by the lewd desire to have The Possessor of the All-Seeing Eyes in his arms and succumb to his touch. So lost in this haze of lust, Yandere!Holy Knight barely registered seeing you stride across the room and flinging white powder into Esther’s face. The heretic immediately fell forward, and you easily caught her, though she was heavier than she looked. Glancing around the room, you turned your attention to him.

“Get to my room. I’ll be right there, I promise.” You commanded quietly, swinging one of the heretic’s arms over your shoulder and placing your hand around her waist. You looked left, then right, and then disappeared, the tail of your robes billowing from the corner of the doorway. Exhaling a shaky breath, Yandere!Holy Knight stood up and went to your room as fast as his legs could carry him.

He waited on your bed for ten agonizing minutes before the doorknob turned to the right, and you entered, quickly locking the door behind you. Yandere!Holy Knight barely contained a sob upon seeing your ethereal form. Unlike the disgust he felt earlier in Esther’s presence, he only felt relief. Comfort. And another feeling blossoming deep inside of him, something that he liked as he gazed upon your scorching eyes.

He watched as you went to the bookcase on the opposite side of the room, pulling a heavy book from the second shelf on the left. He heard the grinding gears of the secret passage spring to life click-click-click-click-shhnk.

“Come.” You said urgently, grabbing him by the arm and hoisting him upwards. Hot energy coursed through him, his body screaming for wanton release even as you repositioned your body in the exact form as you had carried Esther. You stumbled down the stone steps, almost losing your footing more than once on the way down because he tried to press her against the wall, to press her body against his, anything to make him feel good, to make you feel good - it wasn’t his fault!

You just scowled. “When this is over, you and I are going to have a very long talk.”

“So…long as I am with you…I do not care. Please, Lady Harrowhark, touch me.” Yandere!Holy Knight moaned. “Touch me, the light of my life, and let my desire for you burn inside of me forever more, a pyre that no can ever extinguish -”

“Aesir forgive me but shut the ever-living fuck up and sit down on the bed, Sir Palamedes.” You snapped impatiently. Yandere!Holy Knight quickly obeyed the command, not wanting to anger God’s Beloved any further because if you are angry, you will not touch him like you are doing now.

Seemingly satisfied with his obedience, you quickly rummaged around the workspace and collected supplies but not before you illuminated the secret room with a flick of your wrist. You threw a rag in a bowl of cold water, you pushed him on his back to lie down, and rung out the cloth, laying it over his face.

“This is going to hurt.” You warned him.

“I know.” He said.“

You need to keep still.”

“I know.”

“I’ll be as gentle as I can.”

“I know.” Yandere!Holy Knight whispered. “I know…you would never hurt me…as Reverend Sister Esther. No, the heretic would have. So please…do whatever you want with me just please let me feel you, please.” He pleaded. Instead of receiving an answer, he heard the clink of a knife being removed from its leather sheath, and his shirt being ripped open from the bottom to the top. Yandere!Holy Knight arched his back, moaning.

“Lady Harrowhark!”

“Shut. Up.”

That was the last thing he remembered before Yandere!Holy Knight lost consciousness. When he awakened, there was no trace of the fog in his mind nor the heat in his body. He could think. He could feel his pulse…it was normal. His eyes widened. Wait, if this is normal!

He shot up from the bed, the rag falling from his face. He saw you hunched over the desk, panting loudly and grunting before you turned around. In your hands was a large jar, filled with holy water and a writhing black mass of roots. He paled. What was that thing? Is that what the heathen had placed inside of his hand, letting it fester? What you had removed from his body with your holy magic? Dear Aesir.

When you turned around, saw him…you smiled. You smiled with those jeweled eyes and flushed face and blood sweat trickling down your nose and mouth. You staggered towards him, trying hard to keep yourself steady. And you did until you reached the edge of the bed….and you fell forward. Yandere!Holy Knight caught you. He hadn’t expected to feel as weak as he did. It took a tremendous amount of effort to pull you up from where you had landed, right on top of his legs, and repositioned himself…so that you could lay your head against his chest.

He remembered meeting with Esther in the cloister. She treated his hand, then…

Murky violet orbs widened in horror and shame as one fragmented memory after another fell into place, filling the gap between then and now. He looked down at you. How could he have called out to you like that, shamelessly lusting after you like the foolish, licentious sinner that he is. Yet you risked your health yet again, this time to save his soul from damnation.

Yandere!Holy Knight felt tears welling up in the back of his eyes, choking back a sob as disgust and guilt somersaulted in his stomach.

How could you forgive him after what he had done to you? What he might have done? He didn’t deserve it. It was his fault for allowing Sister Esther to get close to him when you told him to stay away from her. He turned to the jar that was rattling on the desk, the….seed, if he could even call it that, wriggle and tap its inky tentacles incessantly against the glass. It wanted out.

And as much as he wanted to destroy that thing with his own hands, you would never keep this foul thing unless you had planned to use it as the evidence they needed to convict Esther of her crimes against the Holy Temple of Aesir.

In a moment of selfishness, Yandere!Holy Knight took one of your hands and pressed his lips against the knuckles. He recited the penance of Lust in his mind twice, murmuring under his breath. He prayed for Aesir’s forgiveness, for your forgiveness, for you to wake up soon.

The Holy Temple needed you. You were the only one who could save the congregation from being condemned by the Empire. It was his home, your home.

He needed you. You were the only one who could ever quench the flames of his desire, even if you were to never feel the same towards him for the rest of your days. So long as you are by his side, he will never ask for anything else.

©️do not repost or use any of the characters depicted here without the author’s permission. forbidden-sunlight, 2024

Taglist

@certifiedsimpinggalore

@queenmimis

@amidst-the-tempest

@yandere-dark-cupid

@mochinon-yah

@average-yandere-enjoyer

@thatstrangesheep

@lxdymoon0357

@faux-ecrivain

@cassanderasblog

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vodika-vibes · 1 month

Note

“you’re mine“ for alpha 17 pretty please 😮‍💨🙏🏻

All Mine

Summary: Alpha-17 is a possessive man and everyone knows not to touch when he considers his. It’s unfortunate that the new trainer didn’t get that memo. Well. Unfortunate for him.

Pairing: Alpha-17 x F!Reader

Word Count: 1446

Warnings: Attempted SA. It isn't shown in detail, and it's more hinted around, but please be careful if you think it might trigger you.

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: Alright. So this is, quite literally, the oldest ask in my inbox and I'm so so so sorry that it took me so long to get to it! Please forgive me!

Alpha-17 stretches his legs out in front of him from where he’s sitting in “his” chair in her office on Kamino. His chair, in the sense that no one else sits in it. Partly because the only time people come to this particular office is when they need tech support.

Not that he minds. It means that he has plenty of time to be alone with his cyare.

And he can never have enough of that.

He watches her work for a moment, her gaze focused on the pile of datapads stacked on the desk in front of her. She mentioned, earlier, that these needed to be formatted for the up and coming cadets, and that she’d be working on it all day.

It is her way of informing him that she’s not going to be able to give him a lot of attention while she’s working. Her way of suggesting that he spend the day doing something more worthwhile than watching her work.

Alpha knows that she worries about him getting bored.

As if he could ever get bored when she’s in his line of sight. Even if she’s wearing the formless uniform that the Kaminoans require.

“You’re staring at me, Alpha.” Her voice is light, though she doesn’t look up from her work.

“You don’t want me to stare then you shouldn’t be looking so pretty.” Alpha counters.

She finally lifts her gaze and shoots him an amused look, “Alpha, I’m wearing a formless uniform, and my hair is pulled into a bun, and I’m not even wearing make-up.”

“And yet you’re still stunning, if you were wearing make-up and did your hair no one would ever get any work done around here.” Alpha teases with a crooked grin.

“You’re not getting any work done anyway,” She points out, with her own teasing smile.

“It won’t kill the cadets to wait a little bit before their training starts.”

“They’re not cadets, Alpha, they’re up and coming ARCs and you’re going to give them anxiety.”

“Good. It’ll keep them alive.”

“Alpha!”

He grins at her, “Don’t worry, cyare. I’ll get to them before they get into any trouble.” She looks doubtful, and his grin widens, “What? Don’t you trust me?”

“Of course I trust you, but I also know you, Alpha-17.”

He chuckles and pushes to his feet to cross the room in several long strides, before ducking his head to drop a kiss to her cheek, “I’ll see you this afternoon, cyare.”

She turns her head to favor him with a warm smile, “It’s a date.”

Alpha chuckles and takes her hand to press a kiss to her knuckles, before he releases her and saunters out the room, pausing only long enough to tug his helmet over his head.

Wouldn’t do for the little shits to see him in a good mood, after all. He does have a reputation to keep.

Several, very long, hours later—somehow the ARC Cadets seem to get more and more annoying by the day— Alpha keys in the door code to his cyare’s suite and stops just in the door to strip off his armor.

She might not mind having his armor pressed against her, but he doesn’t like the bruises that she gets from the hard ridges of his armor. Not to say that he minds bruising her, because nothing could be further from the truth, but he wants to do the bruising manually.

Does that make him an asshole? Yeah. Probably.

“Cyare, I’m back!”

She pokes her head around a corner, and flashes him a bright smile, “Welcome home, I’m making pasta for dinner.”

“How you manage to work all day and still have time to cook a homemade dinner is beyond me, cyar’ika.” Alpha says with a wry smile as he walks further into the suite and follows her into her “kitchen”, which is really more of a kitchenette, as he’s heard her complain on more than one occasion.

“I am a talented woman,”

“You’ll get no arguments from me,” Alpha agrees, as he bumps his hip against the counter to watch her work. She changed out of her work clothes, and is wearing leggings and one of his shirts, which is curious.

Normally she dons tank tops when she’s relaxing at home, or tee shirts. Never long sleeves.

“Hm...what’s this about?” Alpha asks as he lightly plucks the collar of the shirt, “Since when do you wear long sleeves when you’re relaxing?”

There’s a flicker of something on her face. Not fear, because she’s never been afraid of him in her life, but uncertainty maybe.

Alpha’s eyes narrow, “What happened?”

“Don’t lose your cool-”

“Cyare. What happened?”

She hesitates a moment longer, and then sighs and sets the wooden spoon down on a paper towel. “Before I tell you, I need you to know that I’m fine. Colt stopped...well. Colt helped.”

“Not. Helping.”

“Sorry, sorry.” She tugs up the sleeve of her shirt, revealing a series of bruises on her wrist and up her arm.

Bruises in the shape of hands.

Gently, Alpha takes her arm in his hands and he brushes his fingers over the bruises. They’re smaller than his hands, smaller than any of his brothers too. “What happened?”

“Well, you know how the Kaminoans reached out to a new Mandalorian trainer?”

Something unhappy slides across his face, “Yes.”

“Well...he thought...um...he felt-” She trails off, “Colt stopped him. That’s the important thing.”

Alpha doesn’t say anything for a long time.

“Are you mad?”

“I’m kriffing pissed,” Alpha finally replies, though, as his free hand comes up to caress her cheek, it’s so very gentle, “But not at you. Never at you.”

She presses her cheek into his hand, “I didn’t do anything to encourage-”

“I know, ad’ika. I know.” His voice is low and reassuring before he leans in and lightly brushes his lips against hers, “Why don’t you let me treat this, before we eat dinner, hm?”

She scans his face, “You’re not going to do anything...dramatic? Are you?”

His smile is soft and reassuring, “I will react in a very reasonable way.”

“Reasonable for me, or reasonable for you?” She asks.

Alpha hums thoughtfully, before he brushes his thumb across her cheek, “You’re mine.” There’s a hint of something quietly possessive in his voice, “Don’t worry, ad’ika. He won’t touch you again.”

“...you’re going to kill him, aren’t you?”

Alpha meets her gaze evenly, “Do you really want me to answer that?”

She’s quiet for a long time, and then she smiles softly, “Would you like garlic bread with dinner?”

“I would love some garlic bread with dinner.” Alpha replies, before he drops one more kiss against her lips.

Alpha treats her injuries with a gentle reverence that makes her look at him with adoring eyes, and he remains at her side while they eat dinner, and watch a holo.

In fact, he doesn’t slip out of her quarters until she’s fast asleep in bed, curled around his pillow.

Only then does he drop a feather light kiss to her temple, pull on his armor, and slip out of her suite to deal with the situation.

He runs into Colt first. The younger man straightens and stares at him for a moment, before he produces a blaster and offers it to Alpha, “This blaster vanished from inventory six weeks ago.”

Alpha chuckles as he takes the blaster, “And it’s going to vanish again after tonight?”

Colt shrugs, “It happens.” He steps around Alpha, and then pauses, “Also, there’s been a bug in security. Everything is down for the foreseeable future.”

“Good man.”

“We look after our own, vod.” Colt’s smirk is dark, “Eventually they’ll figure it out. Shoot me a comm when we finish. I’ll help you clean up.”

“Copy that.” The two men go in different direction, Alpha heading deeper into the Trainer’s wing, while Colt headed towards the Cadet Barracks.

The next day, it’s reported that the new trainer has run off, taking all of his belongings and a crate of weapons from storage. It’s also reported that he sabotaged security so no one would see him escape.

When Alpha hears the news, he’s sitting next to her on her bed dressed in his armor.

A smile, slow and dark, slides across his face, and then he’s pressing a gentle kiss against her lips, “Have a good day, Alpha.” She says, soft and sweet, as though she’s not aware that he murdered a man for her the night before.

“I intend to, ad’ika.” He presses one more kiss to her lips, and then he’s gone, it’s time that the ARC cadets learn what it means to be Vod’e.

#star wars #tcw #alpha-17 x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #f!reader fic #tw: sa #tw: attempted assault #answered asks

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harveywritings92 · 1 year

Text

[Slasher! Au: Ghost jams his hunting knife into the tree trunk next to R/n’s head, He kisses her roughly as his body keeps her small frame pinned up against the tree as her legs wrap around his waist.]

Ghost, pulls away from her: It’s okay now, love.

[The tortured screams of fear and agony can be heard all around them as König takes his time slaughtering the men that dared put their filthy hands on their Bunny.]

Ghost: They won’t hurt you or anyone like that again...

#call of duty slasher au #call of duty modern warfare incorrect quotes #Slasher! ghost #Slasher! König #slasher! reader #afab reader #könig x ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #call of duty könig #könig x reader #tw: knives #tw: attempted assault #tw: death mention #tw: suggestive #simon ghost riley x reader

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worst-mother-throwdown · 5 months

Text

BRACKET 1

Round 3

TW: child abuse, emotional abuse, mass murder, manipulation, attempted murder, drowning, sexual abuse, rape

Titania propaganda

Cordelia propaganda

#worst mother throwdown #worst fictional mother throwdown #october daye titania #october daye #october daye series #diabolik lovers cordelia #diabolik lovers #tw child abuse #tw emotional abuse #tw mass murder #tw manipulation #tw attempted murder #tw drowning #tw sex assault #tw sex abuse #tw rap3 #rape tw

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aftgficrec · 5 days

Note

Can't believe I caught this open. I love your page. Was just wondering about fics centered around medicated Andrew. Like the foxes realizing that the drugs were more harmful than helpful. Thanks!

Medicated Andrew is an AFTG hot button theme with a good amount of fandom meta, discussion, and umbrage to be found. Some fic writers go the fix-it route with time travel aus or canon divergent stories with different or zero meds (here's the ao3 unmedicated Andrew tag). When Andrew is on the problematic medication it’s usually Neil who wants it gone, but sometimes other foxes see it too. We also found aus with unexpected people wanting Andrew off the meds…can you say Tetsuji Moriyama or Fox!Harry Potter? We have a good amount of Andrew’s pov, and fanart that’s like whoa. What I’m saying is, buckle up for a wild ride, rabbits. -A

previous recs:

Andrew’s meds here

‘They All Burn the Same’ here (updated)

‘take two’ here

‘Deals With Devils’ and ‘The Sun Still Rises’ here (both updated)

‘The Sphynx and the Hare’ here (completed)

‘Hope Was A Dangerous, Disquieting Thing’ here (updated)

‘i'd die for you (that's easy to say)’ here

‘California Drifting’ here (updated)

‘Of Ocean Tides’ series here

‘This Is What Hollows’ here (completed)

andrew pov:

‘The Court-Hole Fox’ (completed), ‘Fuck the Game’ series, and ‘oh be cautious, do not stand too near’ series, plus ‘Monster’ and ‘Monster 2.0’ (both updated) here

‘Fold me in your palms’ here

‘Therapy session’ here

‘Odd Eye’ here

‘Stranger To Stay’ here (updated)

‘The Real Thing’ here

‘And we’ll be running’ here

‘One More Time (With Feeling)’ here (updated)

‘we destroy everything we need’ here